


crash into you

by Aspidities



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Alpha Kara, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Alternate Earth Villain Lena, F/F, Lena has it so bad even her evil self is like ‘ma’am pls’, Omega Lena, Sleepy confessions, all the bumbling best from our Idiotic In Love Duo, sleepy erections
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-27
Updated: 2020-04-27
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:28:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23878429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aspidities/pseuds/Aspidities
Summary: A series of morally questionable accidents and some very distressing self-revelations for Lena, while Kara blissfully sleeps through most of it.
Relationships: Kara Danvers/Lena Luthor
Comments: 28
Kudos: 1395





	crash into you

**Author's Note:**

> Often, the little worm in my ear takes in information like ‘a story in which evil Lena attacks from beyond the universe’, processes that, and spins it into: ‘but make it dick porn tho’. 
> 
> Essentially, that happens every time. I don’t know what to tell you.

Lena’s not sure quite when her life began to spiral out of control, but she suspects it happened when Kara crashes through the table on her balcony one evening in spring. 

She’s midway through the fifth chapter of  _ The Yellow House  _ when it happens: an air-popping sound like a plane screaming in for a landing, then a deafening crash. Then a rattling, prolonged series of thuds. 

Then, very quietly:  _ “Shit.” _

Lena sets her book down on her coffee table and goes to the glass doors. Sure enough, there is a very familiar blue-and-red-clad alpha tangled up in the iron frame of what used to be an expensive Italian blue glass outdoor table. She’s hopping on one booted foot, attempting to kick away a remnant of what looks like a twisted iron leg. She sees Lena and waves, guiltily. 

“Hi.”

“Hello.” Lena leans against the doorframe, arms crossed. “How is your night going?”

Kara has the good grace to grimace. “Could be better. I’m. Um. Really sorry about your table.”

“Clearly it wasn’t made to withstand high velocity impacts from above. I’ll have a chat with the manufacturer.” 

Kara blinks at her so solidly that Lena relents, just a bit. “Kara, I’m kidding.”

“I’m sorry.” The alpha reaches into the back of her hair, ruffling it sheepishly. “I really am. I’ll replace it. I just...ran out of energy. It’s never happened before.”

“That’s concerning.” And it is. Lena finds herself searching that familiar face, seeing circles under those valiant blue eyes for the first time. Kara looks haggard. Not her usual corn-fed American beauty self. 

Despite everything between them, the frost over her heart melts a bit, at the sight, and sluggishly turns over, beginning to beat again. 

“Don’t worry.” Kara straightens, and for a moment, looks absurdly earnest. “I’m sure the DEO can figure it out. I’ll head there now.” 

She puts her arms up in the air, and there’s a little straining, a grunt. The alpha hovers about ten inches off the ground and then falls, crashing back to the balcony tile. “Damn it.”

“Kara, don’t—“ Now Lena is truly getting worried, against her better judgement. “You’ll hurt yourself. Or break more furniture. Just...come inside.”

They sit on opposite ends of Lena’s large white couches and fidget for long moments. It’s agonizing. 

“I really am sorry.” Kara says, abruptly. “About, um, more than the table.”

Lena decides to tactfully ignore that. She’s not ready for that conversation just yet. At least, not now. “What do you think happened to drain you of your energy?”

This is clearly more solid ground. Kara perks up. “I don’t know. This hasn’t happened before. Or, at least, not this way. I was fighting something that looked like a drone robot—it was flying around taking pictures of downtown, and it had all kinds of alien tech on it, so Alex was concerned.” She looks down at her hands, which Lena sees are tinged with a vague green-blue. “When I grabbed the thing, it exploded into this powder puff, and basically disintegrated. Must’ve been made to be disposable. At first, I thought it was Kryptonite and I panicked, but nothing happened. I waited, and I was fine. I made my report, and was about to fly home when….”

“You crashed through my table.” Lena finishes for her, thoughtfully. “When you say you thought it was Kryptonite, why exactly did you think that? Just the color?”

“Well, yeah.” Kara shrugs. “And the drone made me feel weird, when I touched it. Like a….a buzzing. It rattled my head around. Made me feel kind of sick.”

Lena’s interest is piqued. For a moment, she forgets all about the lingering, unpleasant words left between them, and thinks only about manufacturing. Kryptonite is hard to get a hold of, even hard to control as an element. She should know, after all. A delayed release is possible, but it would be difficult to time. Why would anyone go to the trouble when a simple spray of liquid Kryptonite to the face would be far more effective, especially at short range?

She shudders, and looks guiltily away from Kara, ashamed at the direction her thoughts had taken. Once a Luthor always a Luthor, she supposes. Was she truly a villain now? It always seemed so easy a role slip into. Too easy. 

Kara is looking at her curiously and Lena clears her throat. “Well, it does sound like a delayed release of Kryptonite of some kind. I think you’d better stay here and ask the DEO to come pick you up.”

“Can’t.” Kara smiles ruefully and holds up a dangling piece of electronics that looks well and truly destroyed. “I smashed my communicator watch when I landed. S’okay though, I’ll see Alex tomorrow for brunch and I’ll just tell her then.”

Kara begins to stand, grimacing and holding her spine. “I’d better get going. It’s two buses and a long walk back to my apartment, if I can’t fly there.”

“Stay.” The word is flying past her lips before Lena can really think of offering something more reasonable, like a ride home from her personal driver or, at the very least, Uber fare. She almost wants to cringe at her own eagerness as Kara turns back, eyes questioning. “Ah. I mean. I do have a large comfortable couch. And you’re injured. You can use my phone to call Alex in the morning.”

“Would you be okay with that?” Kara’s eyes are round and hopeful. “I thought you didn’t really want to share space with me after….”

_ After we decided to be enemies. After you said you’d treat me like a villain. After I stopped understanding what I was doing with my life.  _

“You’re hurt.” Is all Lena says. 

In the end, Kara accepts a pillow and a blanket from the linen closet, and they sit together watching  _ Mad Men  _ with the tv flickering over their faces. It’s...nice. Familiar. There’s even laughter. Some shared jokes. 

It’s as if nothing has ever kept them apart, and that makes her sadder than anything else. 

(Because what if  _ she _ was the only thing keeping them apart? Her  _ hurt _ . Her madness. Her inability to heal. 

And she knows the answer to that question and it stings of truth too much to contemplate.)

There is a distraction from the maudlin words said and unsaid between them, and it comes in the form of Kara’s strange predicament. Lena is beginning to get legitimately concerned for her, even with all of the other emotions swirling in her head. She’s never seen Kara’s head so droopy, her eyes so half-lidded. She appears to be falling asleep right in front of Lena’s eyes, as Don Draper slams his hands down onto a desk on screen. 

It’s distracting because it’s….cute? 

Cute maybe isn’t the word.  _ Vulnerable _ , perhaps. Bare-throated in its innocence. Just days after telling Lena she would be treated like a villain if she acted like one, Kara is dozing off on her couch. Snoring, lightly, as her mouth drops open. She looks downright cozy in her borrowed sweatpants and Lena’s MIT sweatshirt. 

Lena can feel the warmth of her, even feet away, and it makes her sting to slide over and card her fingers through honey-gold hair, and feel the alpha’s sleeping sigh against her skin. 

She manages to resist for a full five minutes, and that’s a deep mercy. Then, Lena’s scooting over on her sectional, carefully—jealously— removing the pillow that Kara’s sleeping head rests on, and replacing it with her lap. The alpha shifts, but doesn’t wake, and her sleepy rumble of appreciation when Lena’s fingernails find her scalp is all the omega needs to keep going. 

She used to scratch Kara’s head like this all the time. 

Before. 

It’s nice, with the weight of Kara’s head in her lap, the warmth of the alpha’s neck on her thigh, the tv low and soft, playing on in the background.  _ Too _ nice, if she’s being honest with herself. She’s always a little wet around the intensity of Supergirl’s natural alpha dominance—Lena reflects with some bitterness that the alpha’s control over her pheromones is probably a very effective natural distraction technique—and tonight is no different. But now, with Kara’s head so close to her center, she’s feeling it more than ever. The tense  _ wanting  _ that always comes around when Kara so much as looks at her. And Lena loves it, every time, great fool that she is. 

She feels foolish—stroking the curls at the base of the alpha’s neck, watching her sleep—but she doesn’t stop. This quiet, private intimacy is the most pleasant experience she’s had in weeks, and she’s starved for even this simple scrap of comfort. It’s more than she deserves, even, she tells herself, as she silently thrills to Kara’s pleased, sleepy noises. 

When the alpha starts to inhale her scent, she almost doesn’t notice it. 

At first, Kara’s nostrils only round a bit, and her forehead wrinkles. Lena is preoccupied with trying to smooth it out, wondering what in Kara’s dream could be upsetting her, and then the alpha grunts and moves her head against her hand, sniffing. Her nose tilts into Lena, close to the crux of where her pussy meets her thigh, and the happy, primitive noise she lets out is something that sends a shiver of acknowledgement all up and down Lena’s spine. 

But that’s not the only reaction she notices. 

Kara’s hips, which had been laying still in sleep on the other half of the sectional begin to twitch and move. Her sweatpants, which were already too small, are bunching at the crotch. Tightening. 

Lena takes in a sharp, significant breath as Kara’s erection slowly rises before her eyes, seeking the source of the scent. 

_ Oh.  _ Lena swallows. She’s never seen Kara hard before, for obvious reasons. There was one time, in Kasnia, when she thought she felt it after a hug, but she always figured she’d imagined it. Wishful thinking and all. 

This is definitely not imaginary. It’s right there. Right on Lena’s couch, pressed against her sweatpants. She’s never longed to be a piece of fabric before, but she supposes there’s a time for everything. 

Kara moans in her sleep, and Lena’s heart jumps. The alpha nuzzles into her thigh, and nudges deeper between her legs, instinctively seeking the source of Lena’s appealing arousal signals.  _ God.  _ The omega has to bite her lip at Kara’s grunt of approval. 

_ It’s just instinct. She doesn’t know it’s me. Just instinct. Oh god. Instinct.  _

Despite the internal mantra, it doesn’t help to extricate herself. When she tries to move, gingerly, hoping to replace her lap with the pillow again, Kara makes an unhappy rumble that shivers in her bones and grabs onto her hips, roughly holding her in place. The strength of her is enough to make Lena gasp. 

_ Oh shit. This is dangerous. _ Kara is  _ strong _ and she’s not thinking clearly. Even incapacitated, Lena can feel that immense power of the Kryptonians large hands. The alpha could snap Lena’s legs like twigs. She knows she needs to wake Kara, to get herself free safely, but she can’t quite bring herself to do it. The grip of the alpha’s fingers on her legs has her heart pounding—and not just in fear. 

Another flood between her legs and Kara releases a satisfied growl that is  _ not _ helping. She buries her nose against the crotch of Lena’s sleep shorts, and her hips move, slowly. The swelling only grows bigger, thicker. Lena can clearly see the outline of the head, now, because Kara isn’t wearing underwear, and it’s making her whole body ache with the desire to slip that hard cock out of those shabby grey sweatpants and into her welcoming heat. It’s like all she can think about now is riding Kara until the couch breaks below them. 

_ But Kara doesn’t want you.  _ The vaguely Lillian-accented voice in her brain reminds her, insidiously.  _ She had four years to take you whenever she wanted. You gave her enough signals to fill a well. She never even tried once.  _

Lena flinches at the memory of how often she’d thrown herself at the alpha’s feet, practically begging to be acknowledged as a potential mate. But Kara had blithely always maintained her friendliness, and thus her distance from Lena’s bed. And that was that.  _ No _ , Lena shakes her head.  _ She’s just reacting to the scent of an omega. It’s basic biology. Stop kidding yourself.  _

Right after this stern inner monologue, Kara chooses that exact poetic justice moment to open her damp mouth against Lena’s thigh, and moan her name. 

“ _ Lena.” _

The omega almost launches herself off the couch in shock.  _ Nope.  _ Her brain counters, steadfast,  _ you imagined that. Stop being silly.  _

Several breathless moments go by, and Lena’s heart finally begins to calm down—when it happens again. 

_ “Mmm.”  _ Kara nuzzles into her thigh, still holding her hips firmly. “ _ Lena. Sm’ so good.”  _

_ God.  _ There’s no rationing away from this one. She heard that, clear as day. Lena licks her lips and struggles not to stare at Kara’s cock, prominent now as a flagpole in her sweats. She’s fighting a losing battle. But what else can she do? She’s pinned by Kara’s grip and by her own desire, and the helplessness of the moment is only exacerbated by the fact that the alpha is  _ moaning her name _ . 

There’s no way to process this. Not now, with Kara’s lips dangerously close to her labia, with only two layers of scant fabric between them—and with the amount of wetness she’s gushing, she’s certain her panties are less solid and more like 90% theoretical at this point. She has to escape, and escape fast, or her brain may permanently degrade into mush. 

So, backed into a proverbial lust-corner, Lena responds with desperate measures. 

She coughs, loudly, and shakes her whole body with dramatic effort. 

It works, thankfully. Kara’s grip on her hips instantly retreats, and the alpha lifts up her head, blinking fuzzily. “Wha…?”

“Oh, sorry to wake you.” Lena nearly shoves the pillow back under Kara’s head as she scoots frantically away, almost certain there’s a squeaking sound against the leather. “I had to sneeze. Here, you can keep sleeping, I’m going to bed.”

Before Kara can blink or blearily ask a single follow up question, she flings the blanket over Kara’s tented lap and retreats to her bedroom, gasping out a  _ good night Kara  _ over her shoulder. She spares a glance before going down the hallway, and the alpha is clearly too tired to question anything, because she’s merely grabbed a handful of blanket and snuggled back down into the pillow. Probably nosing back into Lena’s lingering scent. 

Lena shudders, and fairly flies back to her bedroom before she can bemoan the fact that she’s left. 

As soon as she gets to bed, her fingers are shoved into her sopping panties, and she’s leaning against her headboard in a tensed arch, gasping and scrabbling as she rubs herself to a frantic, desperate climax. It feels sweaty and undeserved. Unsatisfying.

She tries again, but with the same results. And again, almost angrily this time. But try as she might, as the night goes on, she can’t shake the feeling that if Kara were there to help her, she might have more success. 

It’s frustrating. And terrifying. 

In the morning, Kara manages to get ahold of Alex, and the DEO takes over. Lena watches over the rim of her coffee cup as Kara ducks into a black van, waving merrily back at her—like it’s commonplace to be able to see someone sixteen stories up. She tells Kara to be safe, with her eyes and her mouth, silently moving her lips around the words, and she walks away from her balcony, thinking  _ that’s that.  _

But it isn’t. Of course. 

It only takes three days for Kara to crash land back into her life again. This time, she’s sagging against the door until Lena puts a robe on and goes to murder whoever’s ringing her doorbell repeatedly at 1am. Kara stumbles into her living room, and Lena is already back in her danger zone, thighs clenching reflexively at the bleary, drunk way that Kara smiles in the general direction of her chest. 

“Hey Lena.” Kara tries to lean against her kitchen counter island, but knocks over a decorative bowl of fake lemons and knocks it to the ground with a smash that doesn’t bode well. “Oops.”

“Kara, stop breaking my things and go sit down on the couch.” Lena pinches the nerve between her eyebrows. She doesn’t want to acknowledge the lemon bowl for now. “I’m going to assume you ran into one of those delayed release Kryptonite drones again?”

“You’re so smart.” Kara is drunkenly swaying near the couch, but she gazes at Lena with all the dopey affection of a fawn stranded on the side of a highway. “N’so pretty too.”

Lena’s cheeks heat up at the praise. “Looks like you’re much more affected this time. Kara, this isn’t good. We have to figure out who’s—“

The alpha faceplants onto her couch, grunting happily into the blanket that she hadn’t the heart to put away. 

“—targeting you.” Lena finishes, drily. There’s no use. Kara is already audibly snoring. 

“Well, shit.” Lena says aloud, to her empty apartment, and goes to pour herself a drink. 

It’s only later, when she’s trying to convince Kara to give up the blanket so she can cover her— suit or no suit, it gets cold in the living room with all the floor-to-ceiling windows—that she is confronted, once again, with Kara’s bobbing, guileless cock, eagerly awakening when she brushes her forearm against it.  _ Shit shit shit.  _ Kara moans, happily clutching the blanket, and once again, the dreaded confirmation:

_ “Lena. Mmmm.” _

Lena lifts herself away from the couch as if it’s on fire and runs like a scared rabbit back to her bedroom, heart pounding away. But there’s no escaping the  _ want  _ that thuds heavy in her veins, and keeps her awake until she finally sobs out an orgasm into her pillow, wishing her fingers were something much bigger, much more brutal. 

Again, the sheepish morning call to Alex. Again, the DEO vans. Again, the brief respite of a few days. 

And then it happens again. 

This time, Kara stumbles in through her open balcony door while Lena is changing into her night shirt in the bedroom. She hadn’t intended to invite the alpha in—only the night breeze—but the consequences are the same. One moment she’s dropping the fresh-laundered boarding school row club logo over her chest, and the next an amorous, sleep-drunk alpha is warbling out her name as she crawls onto Lena’s bed. “Hiii. Lena. You look good.”

“Oh no.” Lena tugs at Kara’s arm, but the alpha is already burrowing her face into the pillows, mouthing at where Lena’s scent is strongest. “No. Not in my bed. This is the last straw. Damn it, Kara, get up!”

But, because the universe doesn’t believe in giving a Luthor a break, the alpha doesn’t rouse. 

So Lena spends a stiff, restless night on the edge of her bed, fully aware of the alpha’s erection only inches away, thick as an oak tree while Kara snores blissfully into her ear. The alpha had insisted on spooning her. Of course. 

It’s agonizing, to be that wet and to be unable to do anything about it. Her thighs slide together, seeking friction, but there’s no relief. No mercy. Just Kara’s hot breath on her neck, her hands pulling possessively at Lena’s hips, teasing her into frustrated oblivion. 

She’s never been more grateful to see the sunrise. 

And it goes on and on and on and  _ on _ like that, with the DEO flailing ineptly to try and fix it, for six  _ weeks _ until Lena decides she’s going to go insane unless she solves the mystery of the delayed release Kryptonite drones. 

She goes to work on it with all the terrier fervor she used to apply to her passion projects—summarily abandoned in the wake of never-ending sexual frustration—and locks herself in her lab for two days while she runs the figures. Kara leaves her exactly twenty-five sleep-drunk messages. Some of them are innocent. Others are suggestive enough to set her skin on fire. She has no idea what to make of any of them. 

The drones are tricky. Complex. She dissects one that Alex allowed her to have—in the sake of inter-departmental comradery, she’s sure, and for no other reason—and at every turn, the machinations frustrate and yet inspire. They’re almost as well-designed as something of Lex’s, but lacking his signature brutality. They have more….finesse. Not designed to kill, or even wound. Simply an incapacitator, but a mercilessly effective one at that. 

On the second night, she cracks it. The source. The sender of these dastardly-complicated 

It, as it turns out, is  _ her _ . 

And she really should have known.

“I expected you a week ago.” Her own image crackles back at her through a holo projector that she unearthed below the shell of one of the drones. The other Lena is dressed in severe black, with some kind of dominatrix-meets-Evita hairstyle, but the more distressing factor is the Kryptonite reactor in her chest, pulsing a steady sickly-green glow. 

“You expected me?” She asks herself, feeling marvelously stupid. 

“Yes. You’re not thinking clearly, or you would have arrived at this conclusion days ago.” Her own voice is crisply irritating—she doesn’t like it. 

“And what conclusion is that?” She gestures to the autopsy she’s laid out across her lab table. “That you want to slowly poison Supergirl in this universe instead of your own, for some reason?”

“She’s dead in my universe.” The other Lena tells her, cold calm. “I killed her. I watched her die.”

Lena recoils from the device as if it’s going to bite her. She opens her mouth and closes it. But before she can open it again, her other self goes on. 

“It hurt to watch her die.” The other Lena says. Her eyes never flicker, not once. “I didn’t even know her, and yet it hurt. What do you think it will feel like for you, I wonder, who knows her so well?”

The rage comes on her so fast it almost makes her dizzy. “If you even  _ dare— _ “

“Not me.” Her own eyes narrow back at her. “You.”

“What?” Lena blinks, hard. 

“I ran the calculations. I found all the universes where she dies at my hand. And I found one where that trajectory was on track, but hadn’t yet occurred. And I sent the drones there.”

“To do what?” Lena’s throat is a narrow straw. “ _ Help _ me murder her?”

“To help you stop. Before you go too far.” The other Lena’s gaze is unrelenting, unavoidable. “Because you know you’ve gone too far, you just don’t know how to stop.”

“That’s—“

“If you saw her,” the other Lena continues, implacably, over her weak protests. “If you truly saw her, and how vulnerable she made herself around you….perhaps the trajectory would change. I was curious. I wanted to see.”

“You were curious.” Lena spits at her own image, incandescent in her anger. “Curious to see how  _ I’d _ react around an incapacitated Super? Or how  _ you’d _ react?”

“Both.” The blue-green eyes she looks into are as solid as glacier ice, and just as unmovable.

“And did I pass your test?” Lena wants to shake herself. Slap her own face, maybe. “Did I prove that your  _ trajectory _ was wrong?”

“Not yet.” The other Lena tells her succinctly. “But you still have time.”

And with that, the signal cuts out, leaving Lena alone in an empty lab, staring at the destroyed remnants of a dead drone. 

Lena wants to scream. She wants to throw things. She wants to cry. 

But mostly, she just wants to prove her own self wrong. 

It’s this insane stubbornness that drives her all the way to Kara’s apartment, in the pouring April rain at two in the morning. She leans against the buzzer, makeup ruined, hair plastered to her face, dripping on the carpeted floor. And Kara answers. Because of course she does. 

“Lena?” The alpha is immediately all concern, springing to the alert. She’s wearing boxers with tiny fish on them, and the muscle tank she’s wearing says ‘I ATE THE KITCHEN SINK CHALLENGE AT BIG AL’S BARBEQUE’ and is patterned with an interesting panoply of stains—but Lena doesn’t care. 

She grabs Kara by her flimsy hem and yanks her close. “Do you want to kiss me?” 

“I—“ Kara swallows, but her eyes instantly betray her—darting down to Lena’s lips with all the longing of a kindergartner who’d been promised a popsicle. “Y-es?”

So Lena kisses her. 

She has to rise on her tiptoes to do it. Kara’s mouth fits clumsily to hers, and her nose bumps against Lena’s nose. But then it softens. And the dampness of Lena’s body isn’t all from rain, when she lets their lips part and drops back down. 

Kara looks mildly thunderstruck. She’s blinking an awful lot. “Wow. Um.”

“Did you want to kiss me because you think it will save me from becoming a villain or have you always wanted to kiss me?” As nice as the kissing is, Lena is impatient. She’s been considering this the whole way over. 

Kara goggles at her. “What?”

“This is important.”

“I—okay. Um.” Kara scratches her head. A flush rises in her cheeks. “I guess, um, always. Or, at least, since the gala.”

“Oh.” Now it’s Lena’s turn to blink. “That’s...that is a long time.”

“Well, how long have  _ you _ wanted to kiss  _ me _ ?” Kara asks, slightly defensive, and Lena can hardly blame her. “Or is this a brand new, Tuesday-at-two-am kind of kiss?”

“No.” Lena laughs. Her chest feels oddly light, even with the way Kara’s looking at her. “I think, since you came to my office with Clark Kent, probably.”

“Oh.” Kara’s eyebrows lift, hopefully. She steps a little bit closer, and one of her hands comes up to cup Lena’s elbow. “That is a little bit longer than me, fyi.”

“I’m aware.” Lena sighs. Lets Kara gather her close. “I found who was making the drones.”

“Oh yeah?” Kara asks, as if she’s forgotten all about it. Her other hand is stroking along Lena’s back now. “Who?”

“Me.” Lena tells her, simply, and watches Kara process that in a series of prolonged blinks. “Or, I suppose, another universe’s version of me. She was, surprisingly, rather helpful.”

“ _ Helpful _ ?” 

“Shh.” Lena puts her finger to Kara’s lips, and then follows it up with a gentle press of her lips. “Let’s not look a strange-alternate-universe-gift-horse in the mouth, shall we?”

“I—oh—well, okay.” Kara stumbles backward, and the door closes behind Lena. “Yeah, I guess that’s...fine….are you taking your  _ shirt _ off?”

“I’m wet.” Lena tells her, simply, and drops her soaking blouse to the floor. Her fingers are already working on the skirt. 

“ _ Rao _ .” Kara swallows. “Can I….can I help?”

It turns out that yes, she certainly can. 

They fall to it on the kitchen floor, knocking against cabinets and making objects fly off of countertops. It doesn’t matter. Lena is caught in the way Kara kisses—slow, searching, tasting every corner of the omega’s mouth. Her hands span across Lena’s ribs like tattoos, and she wants to keep them there. Right there, over her heart. 

But Kara has other ideas, clearly. 

She hitches her hands under Lena’s thighs and the omega has little choice but to hang on for the ride as Kara carries her, kissing her thoroughly all the while, to her bed, through the giant white curtain that separates her studio. Lena lets her nails dig luxuriantly into the alpha’s strong, arched neck, and rocks herself against Kara’s stomach, lifting her hips slowly. She’s being deliberate. She wants to see what Kara will do—if she will be coy about her needs now that the chips are on the table. 

And, gloriously, she is not. 

The alpha pins her to the bed, growling as she nibbles down Lena’s neck, and responds in kind, pressing her hips into Lena’s stomach as she moves down. The hard, heavy length that Lena feels against her skin through Kara’s boxers is making her insides jump and sing with desire. She wants to touch, but Kara won’t let her, no matter how she thrashes and rolls. She’s  _ strong _ and it thrills Lena to her core. 

“Wanna make you feel good, Lena.” Kara’s voice is warm beside her ear, damp and rumbling. “Just wanna make you feel so good.”

One of her hands shifts and she’s using it to slip down Lena’s belly, over her sucking breath, and past the crest of her hipbone to slide between her thighs. Immediately Lena bends her knees up and apart, eagerly opening for Kara’s touch, and the alpha groans into her ear. “You’re so  _ wet _ .”

Kara’s clearly lost in it, fingers playing slowly up and down, and it’s maddening. Lena can’t get her hands free, so she rises and bites at Kara’s ear, threateningly. “I’ve needed you inside me for six weeks now, so hurry up and get to it. Fingers or cock, I don’t— _ ah _ !”

Kara smoothly interrupts her demands with two long, curling fingers. The alpha looks smug as she watches Lena react, and normally the omega would want to slap that right off her face, but not now. “Six weeks, huh?”

“Y-es.” Lena grinds out, gasping at how easily and confidently Kara’s fingers find her g-spot. “Since I—-fuck—since I heard you moan my name on the couch.”

Kara appears to process that with a mixture of embarrassment, wonder, and glee. “Ah. I do tend to talk in my sleep.”

“Yes, well. “ Lena closes her eyes against the impulse to cry out when Kara curls her fingers and thrusts, slowly. “I did put your head in my lap so I could—oh  _ god _ —touch your hair.”

“You’re the best at it.” Kara tells her, all sincerity, and then she’s fucking into Lena with sure, strong fingers and the conversation dissolves into moans. 

Somewhere along the time that Kara starts sucking at her nipples, Lena begins begging to be fucked. It’s a new experience for her, but certainly a desperate one. She’s also found her way to wrap her fingers around Kara’s cock, since the alpha has long since abandoned pinning her wrists, and she’s pumping furiously, aiding in Kara’s mutual deterioration. 

“God please,  _ please _ .” She chants, almost mindlessly. “Kara, please  _ fuck _ me.”

“We need—-“ Kara is mouthing at her breast, almost incoherent under the swell of flesh that muffles her lips. “Condoms. I have some. Under the bed.”

“Get them please.” Lena shoves at Kara’s shoulders with all the effect of a butterfly trying to move a gorilla, but Kara obliges. Her cock slips from Lena’s hand and she whines, heedless of the necessity for it, but her body still aches to be touching the alpha’s skin in some way, any way. 

So much so, that when Kara returns from under the bed, triumphantly holding up a pack of Durex Alpha, Lena practically climbs her in a wild effort to get her lips all over that sun-drenched skin. Kara yelps, clearly delighted, and allows Lena to straddle her while she lays back against the pillows. The omega lets her ass ghost against the arching curve of Kara’s erection, laying fat and pink against her belly, and feels it bob eagerly in response. 

“ _ Lena— _ “ Kara grinds out, sounding half in awe. “You’re so f-fucking beautiful.”

In lieu of response, Lena kisses her, and pulls a condom from the package in Kara’s frozen-still hand. She has it torn open and half unrolled down the alpha’s thickly prominent shaft before Kara blinks back to awareness and groans at her actions. Lena gives her a tender squeeze at the base, before she tosses the condom wrapper away to the darkness of the room, and starts to lower herself down, rubbing the wide tip against her eagerly swollen lips, pouting pink and glistening with her slick. 

“ _ Rao _ .” Kara lets her head fall back against the headboard, but she’s watching Lena’s progress with interest. Her hands are on the omega’s hips, but she’s not pulling her down. Not yet, anyway. 

Lena lets a sigh slip from her as the head begins to breach her cunt. “ _ Fuck _ .” 

“Yeah.” Kara agrees, breathlessly, tilting their foreheads together. “You go slow as you need, baby.”

“I can take you.” Lena gives her a significant look, and proves it by lowering herself another few inches, hissing in pleasure. 

“ _ Oh _ .” Kara’s fingers dig slightly into the flesh of her hips. It’s enough to leave little bruises that Lena knows she will relish tomorrow. “Show me.”

So she does. 

When she gets all the way inside, rocking against Kara’s lap, the fullness is almost overwhelming. The stretch is all she feels, thinks, knows. It’s burning and sweet and terribly, gorgeously aching inside her, teasing out the pleasure with every helpless roll of Kara’s hips below her—the alpha clearly knows how  _ big _ she is and is trying so hard not to go too rough. 

But Lena  _ wants _ it rough. 

She lets her head fall back, anchors herself with a hand on Kara’s neck and another on her knee, and starts to ride. Slow, slick, rocking with her hips in sloppy figure-eights. Kara groaning below her, lips pulled over her teeth at the pleasure every time Lena raises up and squeezes her tip with her inner muscles. 

It’s  _ deep _ and it’s  _ filling _ her but she wants  _ more _ . 

And soon, Kara gives it to her. 

Fingers ramming her hips down like a ragdoll for the powerful thrusts from below, breath hot in her ear, eyes swallowed in pupil. And Lena is pinned like a caught thread in a loom, rocked to the beat of Kara’s body, lost in the rising, clenching feeling in her belly. She’s screaming, perhaps. Or just moaning Kara’s name, over and over. And  _ please.  _ And  _ don’t stop.  _

When she comes, it’s blinding. It takes her breath and her vision and leaves her gasping, fingers twitching on Kara’s chest, shaking and blinking at the light. Kara keeps going for a few more punishing jackhammer strokes before she cries out Lena’s name in a garbled, ungainly rush, and thrusts jerkily to fill the condom, hips grinding up as she pulls Lena down. 

They slump against each other—a sticky, gasping thing that once was two people. Kara has her face buried in Lena’s chest, and judging by her happy sigh, she’s not coming out any time soon. Lena strokes her sweaty hair, and shudders through the aftershocks, clenching helplessly on the length inside her with each pulse that they share. 

It’s quiet, for long, sleepy moments. 

But, eventually, the necessity of the universal post-sex routine makes itself known. Kara finally lifts her, and she toddles off to the bathroom. Over the sound of the toilet flushing, she hears Kara discard the condom and pull the rumpled sheets off the bed, changing them for (hopefully) clean ones. When they pass for the bathroom trade, Kara gives her a quick, sweet kiss that says more in the intimacy of it than Lena could hope to express in words. 

It feels….good.

Perhaps the right trajectory, after all. 

**Author's Note:**

> Bored of quarantine and needing a treasure trove of smut? Follow the link in my [ Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/aspidities) for updates and prompts and gay bullshittery the likes of which you’ve never seen


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